Something ODD the Lord Made
by Akktri
Summary: The Ninja Turtles encounter religion. edit: Title was revised in honor of Dr. Blalock


All TMNT characters are copyright Mirage studios.

* * *

The sidewalk running along New York's Troost Avenue was on a hillside, sloping down at a forty-five degree angle. The pavement was cracked, with crab grass growing through the gaps. Old beer bottles, cans, hubcaps, and other trash lay scattered about. A green Lexus was smashed up against a street sign, covered with graffiti, with its windows broken. 

A brown-orange tortiseshell cat padded down the crumbling sidewalk, searching for food. It hopped over a section of curb behind a battered green Lincoln Continental, sniffing the ground. It picked up the scent of rodents, following it down to a rusty storm drain.

The cat spotted a large cluster of rats. The rodents scampered amidst trash and rotting food, picking out edible nuggets to take to their burrow. The cat sniffed, then stuck its head into the opening. With a bit of effort, it managed to squeeze inside, hopping down into the concrete box below.

The rats scattered in all directions, hurrying into narrow pipes in the walls. One was slower than the rest. A fat black one. The rodent was in the back corner of the box, sitting in a pool of glowing green liquid, trying desperately to chew through a metal pipe grating.

The cat pounced, driving its claws through the critter's tiny body. It let out a shrilly squeal and expired.

The cat scooped the rodent up in its mouth, sat down in the green puddle, and ate.

"Ootah Kimchee! Kitty!" a voice called. "Kitty! Kimchee! Ootah! Where are you! Come here! Ootah koyai!"

The cat jerked to attention. It gulped down the rest of the rat, jumped on a pipe, and stuck its head through the hole near the ceiling. It squeezed itself out halfway, flopping its paws on the pavement outside. "Meow!"

"Kitty?"

The cat's hind legs scratched against the insides of the storm drain for a few minutes, until more of its body came out.

A pair of legs came into view. "Kimchee! What doing down there?"

"Meow!"

Two delicate tan hands wrapped around the cat, and its body popped out of the drain. The cat was lifted up onto a bony female chest, thin human arms wrapping around its bottom. The feline spread its paws on the fading Happy Days t-shirt, nuzzling its head against the cotton fabric, staring up at a puffy Asian face framed in curly black hair. A pair of glasses were perched precariously on her tiny nose.

"Oh! So stinky!" said the woman's voice. "Mokyok wonhapnida." One of the woman's hands moved to scratch something on her face. "Du ru wu! Uck! What you do? You are covered in green! Oh!" The woman wiped the substance on her jeans, then pushed her glasses up.

The cat was carried up the street to a little yellow house with broken siding and weeds growing all around the foundation. The two went up a staircase covered in flaky gray paint and across a porch, to a damaged looking door. The woman opened the door, carrying the cat across a tidy little living room, to a shoddy plywood door next to a picture of Jesus. The cat stared out a small window, gaze fixed on a pair of stately skyscrapers towering over a cluster of buildings.

The woman turned the door knob, entering a small bathroom containing a sink, cabinets, a toilet, and a bathtub with a flowery shower curtain. The cat became anxious, digging its claws into the woman's shirt.

The woman shut the door, set the cat on the floor, and began filling up the bath tub with warm water. She dug out a green bottle, some rags and a cup from a cabinet under the sink, setting them on the floor.

The cat cowered against the wainscotting in the corner of the room. "Meow?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "Moyok for stinky Kimchee cat!"

"Meeeowwww!"

"Bad cat. No climb down in sewer anymore!" The woman picked up the cat, soaped it up, and brought it up to the lip of the tub. The cat mewled loudly, scratching and clawing at the woman, climbing up her shirt, but to no avail. It soon was submerged in water, getting cups of water dumped on its head.

Once the cat was at a reasonable level of cleanliness, the woman let go of its neck, and the feline leaped out of the tub, shaking water all over the place.

The cat was dried off, and freed to roam the house. The woman, in the meantime, cleaned the tub and prepared for her own bath.

The woman's bedroom was tiny. It held a closet, some dressers, and a cheap bed. A framed brush painting and a crucifix hung over the bed. A reproduction of _Christ in Gesthemane_ hung on the wall next to the closet. Tattered curtains were pulled over a large window on one side of the room. The wall next to the door held an Elvis poster. It was dark. The bare bulb on the ceiling was off. A dresser near the bed held a phone and a digital clock reading four o' clock.

The phone rang. The woman rolled over. The phone rang again and again. The woman moaned, fumbling around in the dark for the receiver. She picked it up, holding it to her ear.

"Goto Murio?"

"It's Goto Muriko," the woman corrected. She frowned at the number on the clock.

"Right. Well I'm Jim Robinson with the New York State Troopers' Association. I'm sorry for calling you this early, but we haven't been able to find a good time to contact you. Now, our records show that last year you donated twenty dollars to the Families of State Troopers Drive. Would you be willing to donate again this year?"

Goto paused. _I really shouldn't. You people shouldn't be calling people at four in the morning!_ She shook her head. _But Jesus said to give to everyone who needs._ She tapped the dresser with impatience. She felt something soft and spongy on the palm of her hand, but couldn't tell what it was without the light.

"Miss Goto?"

Goto sighed. "Okay."

"So you'd be willing to donate to the Families of State Trooper's Drive?"

She nodded. "Yes." She frowned, rubbing her palm with her finger. _What is that? What's stuck on my hand?_ It felt like a tumor, or a large callous. She tried rubbing it against the bed to remove it, but it didn't work.

"All right!" said the voice. "Now, will you be paying us by credit card or by mail?"

"Mail, please."

"And do you want the ten dollar, the twenty dollar, or the thirty dollar matching fund packet?"

"I want to give five dollars."

"Goto, are you aware of what the State Troopers' Association does for the families of State Troopers who have lost their lives in the line of duty?"

"Yes, but I only want to give five dollars." She reached for the lamp, clicking it on. She gasped. Her hand was fuzzy. She stared at her hand in the light. A brown-orange tortiseshell patterned coat of hair seemed to be sprouting from her fingers, her thumb, and the back of her hand. The soft, spongy thing she'd felt earlier appeared to be a growth coming out of her palm. She let out a cry of surprise.

"Goto, distributing these packets cost money. Five dollars will barely cover the costs of printing and distribution, and it certainly won't be enough to feed the families of our state troopers. Could you please reconsider and choose either the ten dollar, the twenty dollar, or the thirty dollar Matching Fund packet?"

Goto's mouth fell open. _What is this? What is happening to me?_ Her eyes travelled up from her hand. The hair was everywhere. On her wrist, her forearms, her biceps, trailing in and around her nightgown. Her breathing became shallow with fright.

"Miss Goto?"

Goto didn't reply. She raised her hand up to her face. It felt like she had grown a beard, but the hair continued upwards, over her cheeks, around the sides of her head. She screamed.

"Miss Goto? Are you all right?"

"Uh..."

"Would you like for us to call you back later?"

Goto sighed. _I don't want to play games._ "No."

"Then, could you please tell us if you want the ten dollar, the twenty dollar, or the thirty dollar Matching Fund packet? We don't do five dollar packets."

_Then why can the Salvation Army print out the same type of envelopes and accept a dollar donation? How dare they demand ten dollars! How ungrateful! I shouldn't give them anything._ Goto sighed. "Fine. I will take ten dollar."

"Okay. Glad to hear it." The voice asked her to verify her contact information. "Now, the packet will be sent to your house in a few days. Do we have your word that, as soon as you receive the packet, you will return it with your donation enclosed?"

Goto sighed. "Okay. Yes."

The voice thanked her and hung up.

She got out of bed, walking into the bathroom. She switched the lights on, staring at the mirror. There was a cat looking back at her. It blinked when she blinked. It wore a blue silk nightgown just like hers, patterned with ducks and flowers. When she raised her arm, it raised its own. She touched her face, and it mirrored the gesture. Her fingers edged towards the spot where she expected her nose to be. In its place was a fuzzy protrusion with a wet thing on the end. The cat in the mirror touched its mottled black nose. Her hands went to the sides of her head. She didn't find any ears there. Her hands moved higher, closing on a pair of velvety triangular objects. The cat in the mirror looked frightened as it touched its ears, its mouth making a large O, mimicking her.

Goto screamed. The cat screamed back, exposing its fangs. Both of them fainted.

Goto awoke on the bathroom floor. She sat up and rubbed her head. She still felt fuzz there. As she stood up, she saw the cat in the mirror rise up above the sink and stare at her. _I am a cat! Somehow I have become a cat!_ She swallowed. _I can't be a cat. I can't...I have a job. I can't go to work as a cat._ She went to her room, sat on the edge of her bed, and wept.

When she had tired of weeping, she stared at the floor for several minutes. Her tail wiggled back and forth nervously against the side of the bed.

Her alarm went off. The country music station came on. She shut it off and sighed. She would have to go to work soon.

She folded her hands, praying that God would make her normal again. After the amen, she was still a cat.

She began her morning rituals. She took out a bible, studying it with a devotional booklet. "To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews," she muttered as she read 1 Corinthians 9. "What, am I to convert house cats?"

With a shrug, she got up and went to the kitchen. She noticed a foul odor. She looked around and found a pair of fuzzy feet and a tail sticking out behind a trash can. She knelt down, getting a closer look.

"Kimchee! No!"

Kimchee was dead. The cat's spine was curved in an arc. Its legs stuck out like boards. Its gaze was vacant. Its eyes didn't blink. The contents of its bladder and bowels had spewed all over the linoleum.

Goto started crying again. When she had finished, she took a second look at the cat, trying to figure out how to dispose of it.

The cat looked odd. When she looked in its slack open mouth, she thought the middle incisors looked a bit too long. The ears looked a bit too rounded, the tail a bit too scaly. Not knowing what else to do, she threw the cat into a trash bag and took it out to the dumpster. She cleaned up the mess, then washed up a bit.

She ate a breakfast of noodles and sushi in her cramped dining area, then sat staring at a potted fern. _What am I going to do?_ She spent several minutes praying about it. She came to the conclusion that Jesus would be with her, and she should go to work. She packed her lunch, then went to her room, putting on a white blouse and a pair of tan slacks.

She found that slacks were uncomfortable when you had a prehensile tail. She put on a long black dress instead.

She locked up the house and went to work.

Goto worked for a company called Brian Benjamin and Associates LLC. It was a large insurance company inside the World Trade Center. She was one of the many data transcribers on staff there.

She got stares the moment she entered the door. The receptionist and the clients at the front desk gawked at her. She went on, walking through the maze of cubicles that led to her desk. She sat down, put her lunch aside, and started work on entity forms.

People kept walking past her cubicle. She could hear them muttering, giggling, laughing, mocking. She bowed her head, forcing herself to focus on the work.

Lunch time came. She went to the break room, trying not to look at her coworkers as she ate her food. She heard a clinking sound. She looked up and saw that someone had put a saucer of milk on the table. She sighed and pretended she didn't see it.

"Goto, what happened?"

Goto looked up and saw a plump Asian face with brown hair hanging down on the sides. It was Mary Liu, one of her best friends at the office. She smiled, trying not to bare her new fangs as she did so. "Annyong."

"Annyong. What happened to you?"

"I do not know, Mary. I woke up and I was like this. I think that maybe cat got into dangerous chemical or something. Kimchee is dead. She was healthy yesterday. So maybe is poison."

Mary gasped. She made like she were about to scoot her chair back. "Is it contagious?"

Goto shrugged. "I do not think so. I do not think it is like flu. I do not feel sick."

"Well, maybe you should see doctor. Just in case."

Goto nodded. "Okay. I will."

Mary poked at the saucer and shook her head. "Men are so immature."

Goto grinned. "Yes they are."

"You should set up an appointment soon."

The cat head nodded. "I will."

The two of them chatted about other happenings around the office for awhile as they ate. Mary told her that there had been a string of robberies involving a group called the Foot Clan.' They dressed like ninjas and were stealthy robbers. The police was having difficulty catching them, but they had managed to put a few in custody. Then she talked about the winners in a national singing contest.

Mary went out to smoke a cigarette. Goto went to a phone and set up an appointment with her doctor, then returned to her desk. There was a flea collar on top of her keyboard. Shaking her head in frustration, she threw the collar away and went back to work on insurance forms.

An hour before the end of her shift, a balding man in a white shirt and black slacks came in her cubicle, tapping her on the shoulder. "I need to talk to you in my office."

Goto got up, following him to a room in the back corner.

The office contained a large desk, a computer, and book cases full of insurance information. The shelves also displayed pictures of his family members and his collection of golf trophies. The manager offered Goto a seat. "Let's talk."

"What do you want to talk about, sir?"

"What's with the Halloween costume?"

"Sir, it's not a costume. Something happen to me. I do not know what happened. I am so sorry. Please excuse my appearance. It is not my fault. I have accident. If I could change...I will."

"I thought this was just a prank." The manager scratched his chin. After a long, thoughtful pause, he said, "Brian Benjamin and Associates is an equal opportunity employer. That means we do not discriminate on the basis of race, religion, creed or...any of that other stuff. You can go back to work now, Ms. Muriko."

Goto gave the man a respectful bow. "Thank you, sir." She returned to her cubicle and finished the day's work.

The next day, she took off work early to see the doctor. After checking her weight, her tonsils, her ears, eyes, blood pressure, and other things, the doctor took some x-rays and left her alone in an examination room. She sat on an exam table, dressed in a hospital gown, her tail nervously crinkling up the sheet of paper she sat on.

Ten minutes later, an African American man in a lab coat came in, placing her x-rays up on the light box. "Well, Goto, I have some good news. You are completely healthy. Other than the odd growths, the extra vertibra and the excessive hair, there's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing cancerous, your blood pressure is normal, your breathing and sinuses are perfect...in fact, you're a lot healthier than ninety percent of my patients. And, _you have the reflexes of a cat._ I hate to use the expression, but it fits." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm a doctor, and I'm supposed to treat illnesses. What you have isn't technically an illness. I hesitate to even charge you for the office visit. If you think about it, I was really wasting _your_ time. You have a strange problem, and I don't know how to cure it. Of course, I _will_ have to charge you for the x-rays."

Goto nodded. "Thank you, doctor." She dressed and went out to the lobby.

Goto went back to work. Over the course of the following weeks, the murmoring and jokes faded somewhat. She'd get a litter box or a catnip mouse once in awhile, but she became more comfortable with her coworkers. She was a dedicated worker. She kept focused on her job, kept up with the workflow, and nobody brought any complaint up against her.

The month passed.

One day, during the first week of August, a woman in an expensive business suit came in the office. Some time after lunch, she took Goto to the office, setting her down in front of the desk.

"Goto, my name is Karen Moye. I'm in charge of the BBA's national offices." They shook hands. "The reason why we brought you in here is that Brian Benjamin and Associates is starting a new division, and we would like to offer you a promotion to work there instead of in the main offices."

Goto's mouth fell open. "Wow! Really? You are promotion me?"

Karen nodded. "Now, I'd like to tell you a little bit more about this new division. Are you aware of how a satellite system works?"

Goto furrowed her brow. "It...orbit the earth?"

Karen chuckled. "Actually, the idea is that we get some of our most hard working, industrious employees to set up equipment in their own homes and telecommute to work. Does that idea sound appealing to you?"

Goto squinted. "Work...from home?"

"Yes," said Karen. "With BBA Satellite, you will do the majority of your work from home. You will be expected to attend all required meetings, to collect paperwork from the office, and keep up with a certain work quota, but other than that, you will be able to stay in your house and enjoy all the comforts of home."

"Sounds good," said Goto. "When will this happen?"

"Next week, once you agree to sign this contract." Karen slid a stack of papers across the desk.

The contract was filled with confusing legal jargon and complicated terminology. Karen only explained it in general terms, and told her where to sign.

A week later, Goto had emptied her desk and set up computers in her house. It was a strange arrangement. Every day, she was required to enter more than a thousand entity forms, then go back to the office to get more. She went to meetings twice a week, and there was an optional meeting she was also invited to attend. The position paid a dollar more than her previous position, but she missed seeing her coworkers, especially Mary.

The job continued for about a month. Then, after a Wednesday meeting, the boss took her to the back office. The Human Resources guy was sitting in a chair by the wall, observing.

"Goto," the man said, his eyes fixated on her quizzically twisting feline ears. "You probably have heard this from other people already, but upper management has decided to cut the BBA Satellite program."

Goto's countenance fell. "No, I didn't hear."

"It has nothing to do with your performance. You're a damn good worker, and I hate to see you go, but upper management has decided that they need to do some cutbacks, and unfortunately, your position is among those they decided to cut."

Goto sighed. "Oh." She paused and thought a bit.

"Do you understand what we just said?"

She slowly nodded. "Can I...get position elsewhere in company?"

The man swallowed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. There aren't any openings at this time."

"What about my old position?"

"I'm sorry. That position has been filled."

Goto frowned. She wasn't sure if the boss would want to tell her who replaced her. Sigh.

The boss explained her severance package, then both he and the H.R. guy gave her their cards and showed her the door.

Goto spent the rest of the year looking for jobs and drawing unemployment. The pastor at her church eventually hired her as the janitor, since he felt sorry for her. She did a good job, keeping the chapel clean and shiny, scrubbing the crayon marks off the pews, cleaning the bathrooms and cleaning up the grounds. It was a low paying job, but it was a living. It paid the bills and made her feel better about herself.

A Japanese man named Hamato Yoshi lived in the sewers beneath Goto's house. He had managed to find a section of dry, unused tunnels, converting them into a comfortable home for himself. It wasn't much. He only had a simple bedroom and a kitchen/eating area, but it served his purposes, and he could use the rest of the sewer as a toilet. He even figured out how to get clean water out of a pipe so he could shower. He was an animal lover. He liked to keep the wild rats, frogs and reptiles he found in tunnels as pets. After a few close calls with death, he became an expert on the differences between healthy and rabid rats. He learned to kill the ones with rabies, and feed the ones that didn't. His pets became his family, his company, his friends.

He lived a monkish existence in this sewer for quite some time. He got his food by begging for change on the street corners and doing odd jobs.

But one day, his life started getting weird.

The man was walking through a sewer tunnel, carrying a bag of groceries, when he noticed something glinting on the floor of an adjacent tunnel. He put his things up and looked in. There was a glass canister smashed up on the concrete, a glowing green ooze pouring out in a large pool. The substance appeared to be spreading. Fingers of the liquid stretched out beyond the pool, creeping out a drainage pipe leading to a nearby storm drain.

He saw four of his pet turtles crawling around in the stuff. Without thinking, he reached down and snatched them up, clutching them to his chest. A brown rat popped out of a pipe below the pool. Seeing Hamato, it scampered forward, cutting a path through the pool of green glop.

The man took a piece of cardboard, pushing the mess down against the end of the tunnel, hoping it would all drain away. The idea of the substance polluting the water system didn't occur to him.

He took his animals up to the improvised shower, rinsing all of them off.

The man would later end up turning into a giant talking rat. His pet turtles would soon grow to an immense size. He would teach them karate, and they would help him turn his pathetic hovel into something more livable.

More than a decade later, Goto's church folded. They had a depressing farewell party, and then she was out of a job. She applied for unemployment again, and spent several agonizing weeks being rejected by various companies that supposedly wanted help. They said that she didn't have the qualifications, or that the position had been filled, but she could tell they just didn't want to hire a cat woman. The help wanted signs didn't go down. She had the skills, but their eyes said that they thought it would be a bad idea.

Then her unemployment fell through. Apparently, there was some kind of clause against providing support for employees in non-profit organizations.

The bills piled up. Her bank account dwindled until it only contained seven dollars. The city shut off her lights, her water, her electricity.

She lost hope. She sat on her front porch and wept. She prayed her heart out to God, crying and begging for Him to help her. When she didn't get an immediate response, she started weeping again. She wept and prayed and wept again.

"Are you okay, miss?" A man's voice, by the sound of it.

Goto looked up and saw a figure dressed in a tan trenchcoat and a brown fedora. He clutched a heavy looking cloth bag in his hand. "Oh! Hello!" She sniffed and blew her nose.

"Are you okay?"

Goto stared at the stranger. "Um...I...no. I am not okay." Her voice became smaller. "I am so misery."

The stranger came up the front path, edging toward the staircase. "Mind if I sit next to you?"

Goto shrugged. "Okay." She scooted over.

The stranger seated himself, letting the bag hit the ground with a metallic clank. "What seems to be the problem?"

Goto sighed. "Look at me. I am cat. No one wants to hire! I am ugly! I am so ugly!" She buried her face in her hands, weeping. "I have lost light and electrikity and water and soon I might lose home!"

She felt a hand on her back. "I know the feeling."

Goto frowned, glaring at a face obscured by a scarf and a rubber mask. "And how would you know what feeling is like! You are not human who is turned into cat monster! You are just a big man in a coat!"

"Actually..." The stranger took off one of his black leather gloves, exposing a scaly olive green hand.

Goto gasped.

"I'm wearing all this stuff for a reason. I'm a freak, too."

Goto took a deep breath. "Want to come inside? I do not have much, but maybe you can sit down on more comfort."

The stranger nodded.

Goto led him up the steps and took him inside the house.

The stranger closed the door, then proceeded to close the curtains on the windows. The room became dark. He opened a pair of venetian blinds and raised the curtains just a crack to let in some light.

The coat and fedora fell to the floor.

Goto stared at the stranger. He was tall, green, and muscular. He wore a belt and a purple bandanna. He had on knee and elbow pads, and he had a shell.

"Oh!" she gasped. "You are turtle!" She clapped her hands with glee, giggling at him.

The creature shrugged and smiled. "The novelty wore off some time ago." He glanced at her Korean Baptist t-shirt, then looked away.

Goto nodded. "Me too. Me too." She sighed. "Well, we are two monsters in a world without jobs. Isn't that craziness?"

The creature nodded. "Yeah. It's crazy. But my sensei told us how to make do. Have you ever read Walden?"

Goto shook her head. "English...so hard. I hear it is famous literature, but I cannot read is difficulty. I can only read bible."

The turtle chuckled. "That's all right. The book is really boring. But it does tell you how to live without money."

"Oh."

"It's my sensei's favorite. Before we discovered the internet, we were gardening all the time and eating mushrooms. Of course, the guy got in trouble for tax evasion."

Goto nodded. "Taxes difficult. I hope government does not come to take more money. I cannot afford."

The turtle offered his hand. "My name is Donatello. What's your name?"

Goto shook hands with him. "I am Goto Muriko. Tell me, how did you become monster?"

"My sensei lives in the sewer. Someone threw a container of mutagen down there, and I guess me and my brothers were crawling through it. I guess I was some kind of miniature box turtle or something." He grinned.

A chill went down Goto's spine. "What is mudiren?"

Donatello blinked. "Mutagen? Well...it's...sort of a green stuff. It's made of an agent and modified messenger RNA. It's sort of complicated."

Goto bit her lip. Her tail twitched with nervousness. "What does it do?"

"Well...ah...it mutates things." Donatello scratched his head. He plopped down in a recliner. "You see, every cell contains a tiny organism that reads chromosomes and extracts a sequence of proteins and amino acids from..."

Goto's expression was one of complete bafflement.

"Never mind. What I meant to say was, this green stuff, well, it can mutate everything that touches it. My sensei was human, and he touched a rat, so he sort of turned into a giant rat. And he touched me and my brothers, so we all got some of his human DNA and turned into turtle men."

"Oh!" She furrowed her brow. "But...if he touches turtle, wouldn't man become turtle rat human?"

Donatello rubbed his chin. "Theoretically, it should have happened that way, but for some reason, it didn't. Master Splinter doesn't have a shell, or scales, except on his tail."

"Oh." She sat down on a couch next to him.

"So what happened to you?"

Goto paused and thought a minute. "I...think...I also mutation. I think...day before I mutates, cat was green covering with green slime, and I takes to bath and pick up...and so...mutation!"

"Sorry? What was that?"

Sigh. "I...have English difficulty. I did not explain well. I speak Korea."

"Oh." The turtle stood there, running his hand over his chin. "So...you...found a cat...covered in green stuff, right?"

Goto gave him a sharp nod.

"And...you touched it."

She nodded again.

"So...where is the cat now?"

"Cat is...dead. I do not know why. It looks strange when it dies."

"Hmmm..." The turtle stared at the window. In a low mutter, he said, "How many of those damn things was Shredder throwing around?"

A mouse poked out from behind the sofa. Goto's hand shot out and she stuffed the rodent in her mouth.

The turtle gasped. "Holy crap!"

She pulled the mouse out, coated in saliva. She dropped it on the floor. "So sorry. I was so hungry!"

"Hey, I was about to grab a pizza. Splinter's been on a diet kick lately. I just had rice for lunch. You know what they say about Chinese food..."

"That is delicious?"

"No, you get hungry about an hour later!" Donatello laughed. "You and Splinter would get along great together...if you don't decide to eat his head first."

Goto chuckled, wiping the slobber off her face. "I have no money, or I would buy pizza."

"That's okay," said Donatello, putting his disguise back on. "I'm buying." He headed to the door, then stared at her. "Do you have some kind of disguise you can put on?"

Goto shrugged. "Why should I put on disguise? I am not afraid of men. In fact, I go to restaurant like I am now."

Donatello stared at her. "There are evil people out there. People that want to do experiments on us, people that want to kill us. There was a guy named Shredder. He was a real baddass, and if his spies caught us moving around in broad daylight without a disguise..."

Goto shook her head. "You are worry too much. Romans say, Who can separate us from love of Christ? Shall triluation, disress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril or sword?' I am not afraid of death, for Jesus is with me."

An uneasy expression appeared on the turtle's face. He faced the door and stood there, not saying anything. After a minute of silence, he said, "C'mon. Let's go get that pizza."

They went up the street, around a corner, and down a few blocks to a small hole-in-the-wall place called Nemo's Pizzaria. It had bars on the windows. A neon sign behind the glass read Home of the Bronx Pizza!' They pushed through the entrance, entering a cramped little dining area with four tables in it. Checkerboard table cloths. The place also sold beer. They went up to a counter.

A crazy looking fat guy with a handlebar moustache and a chef's hat stepped out from the preparation room in the back. "May I help you?"

Donatello ordered four extra large pizzas with some crazy sounding toppings on them.

"Would you like one with anchovies?" the man winked. "Maybe a saucer of milk for the kitty cat?"

Goto saw the turtle's hands clench into fists. "Listen, you fat ass Italian jerk-!"

She tugged on Donatello's hand. "Donatlo! You must forgive him!"

The rubber mask turned towards her. She figured there was an expression of bewilderment beneath.

Goto leaned over the counter. She smiled at the man. "Jesus loves you. Yes. Anchovy, please."

Donatello sat down at a table, staring at the napkin holder.

Goto seated herself across from him. "Well, Donatlo, I am so glad to be meeting fellow mutation.

"Um, yeah," Donatello muttered. "You know, I've been thinking that, since you don't have lights or anything, that maybe you...might want to kinda, sorta, stay at our lair for awhile. I might have to ask Splinter, but, I mean, you're a nice girl and all. I don't see why we couldn't let you stay somewhere. It's in a sewer, of course, but..."

Goto wrinkled her nose. "A sewer? You want me to live in sewer? That is terrible idea! Sewer are smelly and disease." She shook her head.

The mask wiggled. "It's actually not that bad. Could you at least come with me and check it out?"

She shrugged. "Well, okay. I am nearness to homeless anyway, so will give me something to think on."

They sat there in silence. The pizzas came out. Donatello paid the man and they walked out with the boxes. They stopped by Goto's house so Donatello could pick up his bag, then they went to a manhole, climbing down a ladder.

Goto wrinkled her nose, waving a paw in front of her face. "Duuruuwuu! So stinky!"

"You get used to it," said Donatello. "The smell is fainter where we live."

Goto sighed, following him down to the floor. They went through a series of tunnels, entering a wide brick chamber containing a television, couches and a coffee table. The walls were plastered with old street signs, license plates and movie posters.

Donatello put the pizzas on the table, dropped his bag, and removed his disguise. "Pizza, guys!"

Three tall reptiles entered the room.

"Whoa!" said a grey-green one in an orange bandanna. "Where'd that thing come from?"

"Hey! Another mutant!"

A reptile in a blue bandanna leaned forward, squinting at her. "Hmmm..."

Goto introduced herself, shaking hands with them.

"Well, dig in, guys!" said Donatello.

The boxes were opened. Green hands started reaching in.

"Shouldn't we pray first?" Goto asked.

Dead silence. All of them stared at her, dripping pizzas dangling from their hands.

"Rub-a-dub-dub, thank's for the grub," the grey-green turtle joked. The one with the blue bandanna elbowed him.

"Um...we're not human," said Donatello. "We were born turtles."

"But you have human's DNA," said Goto.

"But we also have turtle DNA."

"Well I have cat DNA, so we will pray, okay?"

The reptiles looked at each other, shrugged, and bowed their heads, just to humor her.

Goto said a Christian table prayer, and they started eating.

"You grow fat eating such junk."

Everyone looked up. A diminutive rat creature in a raggedy gi stood in the entrance of a tunnel, leaning on a stick, staring at them.

"Who is this?"

Donatello put a hand on Goto's back. "This is Goto...uh..."

Goto swallowed a bite of her anchovy pizza. "Goto Muriko."

The rat hobbled into the room, offering his hand. "I am Splinter."

Goto shook the paw. "So, you are teacher to turtle?"

Splinter nodded. "I taught them everything they know."

"And you were once human? Like me?"

Splinter blinked at her. "What was that again?"

"I use to be human. Now I am cat. Donatero say he, you were human also?"

Splinter nodded. A smile spread across his brown muzzle. "Indeed." He sat down on the floor, looking up at her. One of his paws reached into a nearby pizza box. The turtles stared at him. He took out a slice, took a bite, then started coughing, hitting himself on the chest. He put the slice back in the box. "Ugh," he muttered. "How can they eat this stuff?"

Goto smirked. It seemed as if the rat were trying to impress her. She finished her slice of pizza.

"I would like to speak to you privately, Goto" said the rat.

Goto shrugged. "Okay."

The rat led her through a brick tunnel with a barrel vault ceiling. They passed a number of doors and tunnel entrances, coming to a large room filled with tools and automotive parts. "You must forgive me. I cannot be seen on the surface, or I would have asked you to walk with me in the park."

Goto smiled. "Why, are you trying to be romanticism?"

Splinter laughed. "I do not know. It has been a long time since I have met a woman who is similar to me."

She giggled. "But I am not similars. I am a cat, and you are rat."

"But we are similar. You said you were once human. I was once a real martial artist. In Japan. I was human. I had a real life once."

"That much is truthful," said Goto. "I was secretary in office. Then, one day, I transforms."

"Where are you from?"

"I am from Korea. But I do not know karate."

Splinter smiled. "That is okay. Do you have a family?"

Goto shook her head. "Parents...die in factory acshident."

"I lost mine to assassins."

Goto patted the rat's shoulder. "Oh. I am sorry to hear."

They stood there, silently looking in each other's eyes.

"Do you know Jesus?" said Goto.

"Ah," said Splinter. "I thought I heard something strange earlier. I was thinking to myself, How did the Jehovah's Witnesses get down here?'" He chuckled.

Goto smirked, but didn't share his mirth.

"I have heard of Jesus, yes."

"I am Christianity," said Goto. "How about you?"

"Well," Splinter stammered. "I...I...I'm Buddhist."

"Jesus love Buddhist. He love everybody. But you must understand. When your life is over, you do not get to start it again. Life is over, and you must face God."

Splinter sighed.

"What? You no like Jesus? Why not?"

Splinter shook his head, rubbing his face. "Evangelists were very pushy where I come from. They tried to give us bibles and they kept saying how my...the other students and I were going to hell."

"But you will not go to hell if you believe in Jesus."

Splinter frowned. "I do not want to talk about this."

"Okay. Then what do you want to talk about?"

The rat sighed. "I do not know." He rubbed his muzzle with his paw. His bandaged tail wiggled back and forth on the floor. "So, you...mutated like me. You found an animal lying in green stuff, and you picked it up, yes?"

Goto nodded. "Yes."

"And where did this happen to you?"

"It...was...on Troost, I think. Cat was in sewer, and I take out."

"Troost?" Splinter gawked at her. "That's...that's...right around the corner!"

"Yes," said Goto.

Splinter fiddled with his whiskers. "It's an amazing coincidence. Two mutagen containers in the same area...unless it was runoff." He stared at the floor a minute, then looked into her eyes. "Did you see a canister anywhere around the cat?"

"I...no. I didn't see one. But cat had been in sewer."

"A sewer? Could you show me?"

Goto shrugged. "I cannot tell from here where it was. I would have to go outside."

Splinter frowned. "Maybe I can put on a disguise."

"Why? I do not wear one. I have face in God. I have face he watches over me, and nothing can separate me from love of Christ."

Splinter shook his head. "I don't. I want a disguise." He hobbled out of the room.

Goto followed him back into the living room area.

Donatello got Splinter a coat, a hat, and a pillowcase to put over his head. The rat put on the outfit. Two holes had been cut in the pillowcase for sight and ventilation. He looked like a silly ghost. Donatello carried the rat up the ladder, out to the street.

Goto went after them, then led them around to the place on Troost where she had found her cat.

The ghost head peered at the storm drain. The small figure crouched and stuck its head close to the opening.

"It's no use," Donatello said through his mask. "Someone comes in there every week to clean these out."

"How long ago did this happen?" said Splinter.

"At least ten years ago," said Goto.

"Then it's way too late. The sanitation people would have gotten rid of it a long time ago."

"It may have been runoff," Splinter muttered. "It may have drained out here."

Donatello shrugged. "Well, let's go back inside."

They returned to the living room. Goto sat down on the couch, looking in the pizza boxes. There were only two slices left. She finished them off.

Donatello and Splinter muttered to each other. They whispered to the other three reptiles, and they all left the room.

Goto stared at the tunnel they'd gone through. _They're probably talking about me._ She stayed put. She prayed for Splinter and the turtles. A sudden thought occurred to her. _1 Corinthians 9! Is it finally making sense? Did I become a cat to preach the gospel to Splinter?_ She started praying about that, too.

"She's been having a hard time finding jobs because she's a mutant like us," said Donatello. "They're shutting off her utilities. They might even take her house away. We all know how difficult it is to make any sort of success out there."

"Yeah," said the one with the blue headband. "But she's making me uncomfortable with all this religious stuff."

"Chill, Leo. She only asked us to pray before we ate," the grey-green one shrugged.

"Mike, do you want to do that every time we sit down to eat?"

"Um..." Mike rubbed his chin. "I don't know."

Splinter sighed.

"What do you think, Master Splinter?"

The rat didn't speak for awhile, lost in thought. The turtles stared at him. At last, he said, "She is cute, and I admire her courage."

Leo smacked his head.

"I admit, we do not agree religiously. She did not approve of my Buddhism, and I do not approve of her intolerance. But I feel sorry for her. She has nowhere else to go. It may sound strange, but, in a way, she belongs here." He cleared his throat. "And I feel this place needs, how you say it, a woman's touch?' She may stay. At least a night. Perhaps more. Do we have a guest room?"

Mike shrugged. "Not exactly."

"Then," said Splinter. "We need to make one."

The group of creatures returned to the living room area.

"You may stay here tonight," said Splinter. "Possibly longer."

Goto bowed her head. "Thank you. I will go get my things." She went back to her house, grabbing clothing, toiletries, towels, wash cloths and her bible. She returned to the sewer.

Mike and Leo were on the couch, watching television. They told her that the two other turtles were preparing a room for her. She sat in a recliner, watching the TV with them. It was a football game. It didn't interest her much, but the turtles were excited. She watched it passively. A bit later, Donatello entered the room and said, "Well, it's not much, but we've got a place for you to crash."

"Crash?"

"You know, a place to sleep."

"Oh."

Donatello led her through some passageways to an empty maintainance compartment with a mattress on the floor. "Like I said, it's not much."

"I have no electrikity in house. And water is shut off soon. But you have. I am much gratefulness."

Donatello smiled. "You're welcome."

"So," said Goto. "What do you do every day?"

"Well, in between fighting criminals and stuff, not much. I normally work on appliances. I make stuff with scraps I find in junk yards and sell them on Ebay. They usually sell big. Every once and awhile, I have to lay low, so the tax people don't sniff me out, but that's basically how I keep busy. That and practicing ninjitsu. Leo's much more dedicated to the whole martial arts thing. Mikey's sort of a slob, but don't tell him I told you that. He likes to sit around watching TV and playing video games. And skateboard. Then the other guy, Raph, he's just...kinda strange. I don't know what he does half the time. I guess he just sort of looks around to see if anything bad is going down."

"Oh. So you are mostly free and doing nothing, yes?"

Donatello shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Would you like to do bible study some time?"

The turtle stared at her, frowned, and rubbed his chin. "Maybe. As a purely academic exercise, I might consider it."

Goto grinned. "Okay! When would you like to study?"

Long pause. "Um...I don't know. I guess we could try it now."

She grabbed her bible. Donatello led her through a narrow, grimy looking tunnel, and they were in a messy looking electronics lab. It held computers, an anti-static workstation, boxes of tools, and an assortment of electronic bric-a-brac. He pulled out a couple discarded office swivel chairs, grabbed a notepad, and gestured for Goto to begin.

Goto said a prayer. Donatello seemed to be humoring her by bowing his head as well. His eyes did not close during the prayer. Hers did. She opened the bible. "What should we study first?"

"Uh, Genesis, I guess. That's the first book of the bible, isn't it?"

She nodded. She read the first chapter to him, then they discussed it. "Do you believe in God, Donatro?"

"Well," he said. "You can't _disprove_ the existence of God, so I'm open to the possibility. I'm not sure how much further I'll go with that, though."

Goto shrugged. "I will pray for you."

"You know," said Donatello. "One time I was having some serious problems with the concept of God, so I asked Splinter about it. What he said to me was completely nutzo. How can you believe that a god exists, and simultaneously believe that it doesn't? I tried to get him to explain that, but he just went around in circles with it. I mean, either say there is a God, or say that there isn't one. Don't sit on the fence and say that's a position." He shook his head. "I love the guy, but sometimes he just doesn't make any sense. It's like he's put his brain into neutral and just let it coast. Why do we even have brains if we're not supposed to use them?"

"But you understand bible, correct?"

Donatello nodded. "For someone who thinks English is too hard, you seem to know a lot about the English bible."

"Don?" said a voice. Goto looked and saw a splotchy brownish-green face leaning in the entryway. An expression of shock was on its face. "What are you doing?"

"Oh hi, Mike. I was just...talking with Goto."

"Concerning...?"

Goto thought she saw the turtle's adam's apple moving. "We were just discussing religion. As a purely academic exercise."

Mike nodded. "Oh." He leaned up against a wall. "Hey, if you're not busy, someone's trying to hijack and airplane."

"Oh. Right." He looked at Goto and shrugged. "Duty calls. See you in an hour." He hopped up, and the two turtles raced down the tunnel.

Goto took a moment to pray for the turtles, then said a prayer of thanks for both the comfortable place to stay, and the unique witnessing opportunity. "Thank you, Jesus," she said again. She got up, wandering out in the same direction. She stuck her head in different rooms and tunnel entrances, looking around.

"Just an average day," a voice muttered. "The kids go out to play, and leave the old man alone."

Goto saw the rat standing in front of her. She smiled.

"You had plenty to eat, I trust?"

Goto nodded. "I feel sorry now that I have eaten mouse. But I see them running around in living room at house and I..."

"I was human once. I remember when I thought of rats as pests."

She stared at him.

Splinter cleared his throat. "Let's...talk."


End file.
